


The Edge of Tonight

by juiceandali



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M, Juice Ortiz deserves better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-02-06 10:54:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12816006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juiceandali/pseuds/juiceandali
Summary: This is my (attempt) at a JuiceXOC. I do not claim to own any of these characters outside of the OC's I created, this is strictly fictional and for fun. In addition, the timeline will not follow the show exactly.With that being said, I do want to advise of the following trigger warnings for the series: violence, smut, swearing, rape/attempted rape, death, drugs and just about anything else I can think of that was on the show but you get the gist.)





	1. The Edge of Tonight Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my (attempt) at a JuiceXOC. I do not claim to own any of these characters outside of the OC's I created, this is strictly fictional and for fun. In addition, the timeline will not follow the show exactly. 
> 
> With that being said, I do want to advise of the following trigger warnings for the series: violence, smut, swearing, rape/attempted rape, death, drugs and just about anything else I can think of that was on the show but you get the gist.)

The fair marking the end of the summer was in full swing as families and friends were milling about. The scent of deep-frying food was mixing with the screams of patrons on rides, flashing lights beginning to illuminate the cool evening air.

Quite the stark contrast to the bustling midway, the parking lots dull fluorescent lights were buzzing from the over-exertion but the long shadows cast by the surrounding vehicles were providing optimal cover for two leather clad men to sneak around without drawing too much attention to their task. 

"Ya sure you saw the mural, Juicy," the thick, Scottish brogue was just above a whisper as the one voicing their concern took pause in between a couple of F-150's. 

"Positive, I just...don't remember, where I saw the trailer parked," Juice, or Juicy, was eyeing each row carefully so as not to miss what the two were sent off to look for by their President, Clay Morrow, "might be by the horse arena?" 

"Tha'would make sense," Chibs words were dripping with sarcasm and Juice shot him a look, eyebrows coming together, "wha? We have the Irish about to arrive an'Clay sends us on a damn fools errand." 

"He said you need the exercise, anyway, come on," Juice's sunshine grin came through as he set off toward the well-lit arena with Chibs trotting not too far behind the younger man. 

"Ye jus'wanna look at the all the gashes an'cowboys in their tight-ass jeans," Chibs was huffing as they came to the edge of the ring of lights. And girls there were of every shape, size and color on the backs of equally diverse horses. "Les'go, Juicy," Chibs was turning to lead the way toward the livestock parking lot when Juice went the opposite direction toward the panels, careful to avoid being run over as the competitors came tearing in and out of the arena. 

"Next up we have the new kid on the block, she's been following the circuit for quite some time but has never competed in Charming before," the announcer's voice ringing out above the loud country music playing through the speakers, "she's got a tank of a Blue Roan gelding and they're here to stake their claim as Oswald's newest additions," this statement was enough to lure Chibs in as a new person in town may be exactly who they were looking for. 

While neither of the men knew what the hell a Blue Roan gelding was, their eyes were searching for the approaching competitor in the sea of women while slowly making their way along the panels.

Parting the crowd like the Red Sea at an easy trot with his large, black head hung low was a literal tank of a horse, his shoulder and hip muscles rippling beneath the stadium lights. Nothing about his demeanor said that he was ready for this competition of timing and speed. That is, until he was feet from the alleyway. The transformation was enough to cause Juice to freeze in his tracks almost directly in front of the horse as the mighty beasts head came back and the biker swore he saw fire and brimstone come out of its nostrils. 

"Clear the alleyway," a commanding alto voice cut through to Juice just in time for his feet to react and he quickly did just that as Chibs took hold of his brother's kutte to yank him back. 

The rider was in an all black ensemble, her biceps stretching the sleeves of her long-sleeve shirt to the breaking point as she was holding her horse back, who was grunting and snorting in eagerness to do his job while nearly hopping in place. 

Chibs caught the woman saying something in a language that he had never heard before under her breath just before she let the horse shoot forward like a bullet from a gun. The sheer power and the dirt from his hooves kicking up made both men flinch, shielding their faces before turning back to watch with pure fascination. 

"Heeeere she comes, folks! Landing that money barrel on that big ol'boy! Come on, make some noise!" The announcer's voice overtaken by a loud, Gothic rock song as the team came around the first barrel with more dirt flying before sprinting to the second. 

"The lass is doing this to...Marilyn Manson?" Chibs face broke out into a smirk while Juice's head was bobbing to the chorus of "Beautiful People", they both knew that at the speed the woman was traveling at and the jaw set with determination that the only thing she could be hearing was her own heartbeat in time with the hoofbeats of her horse. 

"Aand...three clean barrels as they're coming for home! Don't let up now, little lady, push him!" The announcer was really getting into his job as the two competitors came flying across the time-line and did a quick trot circle, all the while her left hand was scratching and rubbing her horse's neck under his thick mane for doing so well. As she was glancing toward the announcer's stand to receive her time was when Juice caught a decent glimpse of her face and he found himself swallowing, hard. 

The complexion of her skin was similar to his, a hint of an olive undertone, with high cheekbones and lips set in a flat-line while her bright, green eyes were doing a poor job at concealing her impatience as she kept her horse jogging in a circle. 

"Miss Wolf is our new leader of the pack, folks! A time of 16.98 knocks out the previous leading time of 17.23!" That was when a smirk came through on the face of Miss Wolf as she gave a quick tip of her hat to the announcers stand before turning her horse toward the exit and made a bee-line for the trailer parking lot.

"Jesus christ," Chibs let out a low whistle as the country music came back on over the speakers, "an'here we think tha'women are the fairer sex, I'd have ta change my shorts after tha'," the two began to follow where Miss Wolf was last seen, groaning as they lost sight of her and the rows of trailers were seemingly endless.

"Please! Please, Miss Wolf, you promised!" A young girls plea catching their attention as they wove through the maze and the two were both keaning their ears to determine which way the voice was coming from. 

"Fine, but just one song, okay? I don't need your mom getting mad at me because I let you listen to One Direction on my watch," Juice felt a fluttering in his stomach at the older woman's compromise, he knew that Miss Wolf was close by. Already having put her voice to memory. 

A diesel truck came roaring to lif, catching Chibs and Juice’s attention just as they came around the corner to see Oswald's girl hopping out of the passenger seat and began dancing to the boy-band blasting through the open windows. Ducking into the space between the tailgate of the truck and the front of the gooseneck trailer, using it as a shortcut, Juice gave a quick nod for them to move as they wouldn't have to worry about the young girl spotting them. 

The trailer was what made the two bikers freeze in their tracks halfway to it, spray painted on the side was a snarling wolf being commanded by a scythe wielding Reaper. At least, that was the image until the letters "MNC" were blasted into the side with bullet-holes. 

Taking a couple long steps to close the distance between the trailer they were hiding behind and the intended target, Juice was the first to chance a quick peek around the corner as he and Chib were pressing their backs up against the rear door of the trailer. 

Dancing along to the beat was Tristen while Miss Wolf was busy removing the protective gear from Poe's legs, the large horse sipping on water from a hanging bucket with a content expression on his large face. 

"Why dun'we just ask the lass wha'happened?" Chibs was in the middle of suggesting when they heard Tristen call out to her father. 

"Hey, princess," they could hear the fondness in Elliott's tone, "I figured I'd find you out here and give you a heads up to switch the song before your mother catches up," the car door dinged open and the music abruptly cut-off, "now, Miss Wolf, that was quite the performance you put on out there. Too bad Toby won't be turning and burning but I am very excited to see what you'll do with the cutting prospect." Cutting prospect, the two men wore the same expression of confusion on their faces as the term Prospect was very different for them. "Have you....had any issues? Since the trailer?"

"No, none," the woman’s tone was still level but held a final note in it, "as for Toby, his days of being the lazy boy that he is are numbered," Oswald let out a laugh. 

"Well, good, just remember our...agreement, if you are going to be sticking around the fair?" She made an affirmative noise, "let us know if you need anything or run into any trouble? Call Hale if you can't reach me, don't bother with Unser." 

"Sure thing," the trailer shifting as Miss Wolf was loading up her gear into her tack room. "Tristen, make sure you stay with your mom or dad, carnies are what?" 

There was a slight pause then the two were sharing a knowing grin, "CREEPS!" Tristen said with a giggle and their retreating footsteps could be heard on the gravel. 

"Okay, bud, let's listen to something to help us unwind," the truck doors dings made Juice jump and he hit the back of the trailer then the first few notes of a song came through the speakers. 

A low nickering made Chibs grimace, the horse had heard Juice and was sounding some type of alarm to his owner, "what's wrong, bud? Did I put your back-on-track boots on too tight?" The sound of Velcro being redone was a relief to the bikers. 

"Let's just...just ask her," Juice finally spoke up but was only daring enough to peak around the corner so that he wasn't quite in her line of vision and what he saw made him smile despite the purpose of their encounter. 

While he could not remember the last time he heard "Gasolina" there was something about a woman dancing like no one was watching, because she did assume herself to be all alone. The black, long-sleeve shirt was gone, no doubt hung up to avoid getting dirty, in its place was a black tank-top that was beginning to become free from being tucked into the waist of the form-fitting jeans. While the shirt was gone the woman had sleeves made up of tattoos, covering almost every inch of her arms and the visible parts of her back. 

The woman was built more like a Valkyrie than the stereotypical equestrian lithe frame. Long, ebony locks were secure in a tight fishtail braid, swaying back and forth as she was dancing. 

The way she was rocking and rolling her hips, all the while going about brushing the side of her horse, having to stand on her tiptoes a bit, made Juice's mouth water a little and he would have been perfectly content to stand there and watch her as the blazing red sun set behind her. 

That is, until Poe let out a snort, which made Ali whirl around and she suddenly had a large knife in her right hand. Her movements were so fast that Juice took an instinctive step back and ran into Chibs chest. 

 

A tense silence came to settle over the three, only daring to shift their eyes from one to the other to try and determine the next persons move. 

“You two have shit timing,” Miss Wolf finally spoke up, the same all-business tone as she kept her knife out.

“Excuse me?” Juice did separate himself from his sponsor while not moving any closer to the on-edge woman in front of them, who all but rolled her eyes at what she clearly thought was a lie. 

“My time may be beat before the end of the jackpot, if you wanted to rob me then you should have waited until after the runs are all-“ Juice shook his head so fast that a hint of concern came over her steely features. 

“Rob you? No! No no no, we-we aren’t trying to rob you,” now it was her turn to fall silent, waiting for the real reason while slipping her knife back into the sheath on her belt. 

“Listen, senorita,” Chibs did not bother to hide his impatience at his brothers clumsy opening. 

“Hold up,” A filthy hand came up to stop the Scot right there, “you just assume because I’m listening to Daddy Yankee that I must be..wow, okay,” shaking her head but Juice did catch a glimpse of a small smile. 

“An easy mistake, lass,” how easily this whole mission was being dereailed had the older man sighing with annoyance, “we’re here tae ask about your trailer, not steal from ye.’ That was when all three sets of eyes went to the trailer, only the horse paid it no attention as he had a net full of hay to attend to. 

“What about it,” Miss Wolf began to pick out bits of hay and other debris from the brush in her hand while looking over the beat up trailer that has been one of her few constant companions for the last five years of her life. 

“The gunshots that blew the Reaper to bits, lass,” Chibs couldn’t help but bark at the girl, beginning to wonder if she was a bit dense or just playing stupid. 

“Oh, you mean the ones that I received because I took my trailer to pick up grain north of Charming?” Green eyes blinking a few times for effect, “the one I had to take because you told me that Oswald’s trailer was going to take a few days longer to repair because ya couldn’t get the part in? Even though the trailer has been sitting there for over a three weeks? Been sitting in that damn parking lot almost longer than I’ve been at Oswald’s.” This woman clearly did not know who she was talking to or she would have taken on a much different tone with the fiery Scot. 

“Hey, hey, Chibby, take a walk, I got this, okay?” The last thing Juice wanted to do was help him dig a grave for a woman, let alone a woman that had butterflies fluttering in his stomach just from her intensity alone. 

Grumbling something no doubt rude in his Gaelic tongue, Chibs gave Juice a quick raise of his right brow before turning to walk around a bit to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation. Truth of the matter was that with the IRA stopping by he was on edge with just about everything. 

“Sorry about him, he gets a bit...testy when he doesn’t know all the details,” Juice came to lean against the trailer, a bit closer to the woman to try and show her he wasn’t a threat of any sort. 

“Sounds like a personal problem,” her voice barely a mumble while continuing to go about her routine but Juice was a patient man, sometimes. Finally, after clipping a second bucket of water that she filled from the tank tucked under the nose of the trailer to its side did her movements slow and her eyes went back to the bullet holes. 

“What happened?” Juice took a chance by repeating the question posed earlier, giving her an encouraging smile when her eyes came to rest on him. There was a pregnant moment as the wheels began to turn inside her head, that much he could see before the the last few rays of sunlight disappeared from view. 

“I had to get grain last week and went to a place north of town to pick it up, took my trailer even though Oswald said with the painting on the side that I was just asking for trouble. So, I went later in the evening, before the place closed up for the night, figuring less vehicles on the road meant that I wouldn’t have as many eyes on me. Less chance of trouble,” shaking her head then took a step up into her small tack room, a bed up on a raised platform to her left. Deciding that she hadn’t told Juice to get lost just yet, he carefully readjusted his shoulder against her trailer while waiting for her to come back out and when she did there was a caramel covered Granny Smith apple nestled in a piece of wax paper held in her hand that had the large horse nickering excitedly. 

The knife came back out of its sheath to cut away pieces of the apple for her friend to chomp on, slobber dropping to the ground as he ground his teeth. “Two trucks, two men in each cab, one in each bed with guns came up on either side of me and I knew better than to try and outrun them, wasn’t going to risk them shooting out a tire and flipping my truck and trailer into the ditch,” sounding more annoyed by the encounter more than an anything. “They forced me to pull off, get out of the truck and unlatch the door before making me to watch as the gutted each bag of feed. I tried to tell them there was only grain in there and I wasn’t a mule for anything or anyone but they kept pointing to the Reaper, said I had to be someone’s Old Lady or something to be driving around with that on the side of my trailer like a damn target.”

“After each bag had been dumped then they threatened to tear my truck and trailer apart unless I told,” her voice had suddenly become a whisper and Juice had to lean in a bit more to hear her. 

“Told them what,” Juice could only assume what those men thought she had in the bags or concealed within the walls of her trailer. 

“Where the AK’s were,” she said with a shake of her head, “they assumed I was transporting guns for your club, which I hear is just a bunch of drunken Harley enthusiasts from some and a band of outlaws from others.”

“What happened after that,” Juice didn’t act like he didn’t deserve the sigh she gave him for dancing around her question. 

“To the men? Don’t worry about it,” this made Juice worry, this made him worry a lot and his eyes bugged out as he then caught the bruises along her neck, the cuts on her arms and the black-eye that was nearly gone and what remained was covered by makeup. 

“Miss Wolf, I need to know what happened with the Mayans that attacked you,” Juice’s voice shaking as he put his hands together, all but begging for her to continue.

“Mayans?” This made Ali pause in cutting up the last bit of apple and then she shook her head, “no, these men weren’t from the Mayans MC,” now it was Juice’s turn to frown as she her fingers went to twirling the blade. 

“Just because they weren’t wearing kuttes or colors doesn’t mean they weren’t a part of the MC,” Juice would think a woman of her intelligence, assumed intelligence at least, would have been able to figure that out. 

“No, I drove by the Mayans MC on my way up north, had to stop for gas and one of them came up to compliment the artwork but said I would be wise to keep this within city limits to avoid any trouble. They were all dark complected, Mexican, yeah? All drove ape-hangers,” making sure she was describing them well enough before handing over the last bit of the apple to Poe. 

“Yeah, that’s them, I bet the assholes scoped out your trailer and figured you had to be running something for us,” but then she shook her head and put the large knife away just as the loud speakers began to announce the winners of the different divisions. “What ha-“

“-shh,” needing to hear if she had won any type of money then her eyes began to dance when the winner of the jackpots name was about to be announced. 

“...and tonight’s jackpot winner on the big blue roan is Miss Ali Wolf! Come on up and collect your winnings, ladies, and be sure to keep up the good sportsmanship and congratulate each other as everyone had great runs tonight!” The announcer's booming voice rang out loud and clear.

“Ali,” Juice found himself murmuring, putting her name to memory like he did her voice. 

“Yeah, that’s me, I gotta go,” Ali’s eyebrows came together when Juice said her name as if she didn’t like that he knew her as anything other that Miss Wolf. 

“Wait, Ali, what happened to the men that stopped you,” Juice went to reach for her hand to stop her but Poe let out an awful noise that had him scrambling backwards to avoid getting bitten. “Please? Then I’ll leave you be..” 

“Nothing that you or I need to worry about anymore,” Ali gave her horse a soothing pet along his neck, “the racist bastards got what was coming to them.”

“Racist...The Nords,” Juice’s eyes went wide, he hadn’t even thought about the possibility of Darby trying to pin a botched attack on another club to get SAMCRO off their scent. “How did you get away?” 

“Not your problem. Gigs,” Ali began to walk backwards around her horse to make her way towards the announcer stand, disappearing from view quickly with her determined strides. 

“Gigs? What...fuck,” Juice gave a huff but knew that Chibs would be keeping an ear out and had to have heard the announcer, which meant that Juice had to find his brother then go back to his President to inform him that not only did The Nords attack a woman in an effort to obtain their hardware but that she had gotten away relatively unscathed. Who was this woman, this Ali? Glancing back over his shoulder only to receive a glare and snort from her horse, Juice was going to make it his mission to find out more about her the next time she came to Teller-Morrow for Oswald’s trailer, he just had to.


	2. The Edge of Tonight Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juice is determined to learn more about this newcomer to Charming but what happens when one, or more, of his brothers share in the same interest? What if this interest leads to trouble for the club?

“There has to be an easier way to make money, brother,” Jax’s voice barely breaking the quiet of the early morning air as he and Juice were perched up on the roof of the clubhouse. The club had called an emergency church session after Clay, Tig, Bobby and Chibs met with the IRA. More guns, more runs and they were down one man with Opie not yet out of Stockton.

“In what sense,” Juice couldn’t help but notice that his kutte still looked brand new compared to Jax’s as he lit up a joint, only handing it over for Jax to have a drag after taking one of his own.

“Just, easier. Less risk, more pay off,” Jax was always trying to think of the bigger picture and long-term survival of the club, “I’d like to think retirement might be a thing, would hate to still be working at Piney’s age.” 

“Right,” Juice’s shoulders shook with a light laugh, “I’ve been looking into investing, once I start earning a bit more, that is,” being so new, he was the last to get paid out for a job even when he did most of the grunt work. 

“See, shit like that. Gets us more possible Prospects,” Jax knew he could have a conversation like this with Juice, he was different than the others in the sense that he wasn’t out to keep up the tough biker image. Not many twenty-six year olds in biker gangs were researching investment options. 

“Could keep the investing local, help out smaller businesses that might get squashed out, maybe they slip us a bit more protection money,” Juice let the ashes fall off the end of the blunt before taking another drag, rolling his shoulders as he checked his phone, “fuck, the meeting and church took forever,” his shift at TM started soon. 

“Go catch some sleep, man, I’ll look into some of your suggestions with Bobby before taking it to the Pres,” Jax clapped Juice on the shoulder, receiving a smile for taking the other man’s ideas seriously. 

“Take it easy, brother,” Juice patted Jax on the back before standing up, stretching as he looked out over the parking lot to his bike. He could go home, should go home to his empty apartment but thought better of it, eyelids already drooping while his feet carried him to the hatch and he quickly found himself inside a dorm. The noise of his brother’s drinking and laughing filtering through the crack underneath the door as he sat down in front of his computer, “now, to find out more about Miss Ali Wolf,” cracking his knuckles for effect before typing in her name to try and learn more about the new woman of Charming. 

“Juice, juuuuuice,” a pair of bright blue eyes were directly in front of Juice’s face, making him startle backwards and nearly tip over his computer chair, “easy, darlin, just me,” a giggle that he knew all too well, Riley had picked the lock to his room, “Gemma is looking for you, says you’re about to be late for your shift? There’s a customer already here and is wearing on the matriarchs nerves.” 

“Shit, what time izzit,” Juice rubbed his eyes, it was 7AM, “the garage doesn’t open for another half an hour?” Stiffly shuffling to the bathroom for a quick shower and to brush the fuzzy slippers off his teeth.

“I know, but I think it’s Oswald’s employee? Horse people, always up before the sun,” Riley leaned against the wall next to the bathroom door so she could continue talking to Juice, brushing her long brown hair off her shoulder to allow for the cleavage to show. 

There was a fumbling then a curse as Juice ripped open the door just enough to poke his head out, “you said Oswald’s employee is here? That dirty redneck or-”

“-or the pretty green-eyed Native girl? That’s the one, you better hurry because I was just with Tiggy and he was finishing up with his hair when I left, means you have about ten minutes while he picks out an outfit,” Riley giggled as Juice gave her a look and he disappeared back into the bathroom, “want me to try and distract him?”

“Yes, please!” Juice called as the shower came on and he hopped in to get cleaned up. 

“My pleasure,” Riley hurried back out into the hall and nearly ran into Tig as he was on his way to the kitchen, “hi, Tiggy,” pressing her buxom chest into his sternum. 

“Hey, doll, I gotta get some coffee before I head to the garage,” Tig went to shuffle around Riley but she was a bit too quick in those heels. 

“Why don’t you go have a seat at the bar and I’ll make you a cup,” trailing a hand up the length of his thigh, hoping to distract the blue-eyed man. 

“Didn’t get enough last night or this morning,” Tig shook his head then looked at the door she just came out of, “what were you doing with the Puerto Rican?” Not that he was jealous, never jealous over a crow but was genuinely curious as most of them seemed to go to Juice for a quiet night. Not after a session with him. 

“Oh, Gemma had asked me to wake him up, he fell asleep at his computer,” Riley added a slight bite of her coffin-shaped nails to keep Tig on track, “about that cup of coffee?”

“I’ll just get a cup from the office,” Tig held Riley’s delicate shoulders to keep her in place so he could continue toward his destination. Still trying to figure out what that was all about, Tig then spotted a figure leaning against the grille guard of a dually. A customer? Already? Didn’t people sleep in anymore. “Be with you in a sec, man,” lack of coffee causing him to miss the clear indicators that he was speaking to a woman until she spoke up. 

“No rush, I have time,” tipping the brim of a dirty baseball cap back, the icy blue met the emerald green as she took a sip from her large coffee mug.  
“Ah, I’m sorry, darling, you have something in the shop or does your truck need looking at,” Tig offered her his signature smirk, eyebrows coming up and together in apology. 

“Oswald’s trailer, just needed some wire repair work, was told it should have been done about a week ago,” Tig now knew exactly who this was, she had somehow always managed to corner Lowell or catch Chibs on the phone when stopping by to check on the trailer so this was his first encounter with Oswald’s newest employee. 

“Right, that’s been giving us a bit of trouble,” no comment from the woman in front of him, “tell you what, I’ll get that in first for you? That way you can take it...wherever it is you need to take it,” truth be told, they had been using the trailer to help store and transport guns to their warehouse just outside of Charming but she didn’t need to know that. “More coffee?” Hoping to build up some type of rapport. 

“Sure,” Ali made to follow Tig to the office but was taken aback when he held out a large, beringed hand for the mug, “no creamer, thanks.”

“No problem, doll, sit tight,” Tig raised the mug ever so slightly toward its owner before turning to go into the office, where Gemma was smoking away, “morning, gorgeous.”

“Flattery won’t help you today, Tigger,” Gemma’s tone was curt as she nodded to the woman waiting by the truck, “little tart was waiting when I got here, think she’s fed up with the trailer not being ready to go.” 

“Tart? How do you know she a tart,” now Tig was interested, opening up the mug and was startled to see that the coffee inside wasn’t black, “she said no creamer but this definitely has creamer in it,” foregoing the request for no creamer.

“Does it look like I care, Tigger? As far as her being a tart, I don’t,” Gemma just couldn’t think of a better word for the early bird, “just get the damn thing fixed so she gets out of our hair.”

“You got it,” Tig managed to get the coffee to about the same color before screwing the top in place and walking back out just as Juice was coming across the parking lot, wiggling the mug to both show Oswald’s girl that he was good on his word and Juice that he had gotten to her first. “Here you are, doll, I’ll get started on that wire work right away, piece finally came in. You’re late,” looking pointedly at Juice. 

“S-sorry, need any help?” The younger man’s face falling when Tig shook his head, handing over the coffee with the slightest trace of his fingers along Ali’s. 

“Thank you,” Ali nodded to Tig as her hand holding the coffee mug didn’t linger under his touch as she brought it close to her chest. 

The two watched Tig head into the garage to collect his tools, and the part, before he wandered over to the trailer to begin “working” on the break lights when they had been fixed about a week ago. That was when Ali broke the silence with what Juice could only describe to be an annoyed sigh.

“Everything okay?” Turning to look down at her as she inspected her coffee, a little shake of her head before going around the side of her truck to be out of sight, “Ali?”

“Shh,” the sound of liquid draining onto the poured concrete had Juice very concerned, what was this woman doing. “I said no creamer, gotta love when people don’t listen,” tossing the now empty mug onto the passenger seat of her truck. 

“I can get you another cup, no creamer?” Juice offered as Ali came back around and her eyebrows came together with an almost unreadable expression. “Just, figure I could do that,” stammering a little under the intensity of her gaze, a little unnerved as he was supposed to be a big-bad biker outlaw. 

“No thanks,” Ali said after a beat, turning to frown at the hustle and bustle of the adjacent street. “Do you guys do metal repair work here? Or should I look elsewhere.” 

“For your trailer?” Juice received a nod and he couldn’t help but give her that sunshine smile, coming up to place a hand on the small of her back but she took a few steps to stay ahead of his guiding touch. “We can get you started on the paperwork, do you want the artwork repaired, as well?” 

“Couldn’t hurt,” Ali stepped up into the office with Gemma, who looked over her glasses at the two youngsters. 

“Tig should have Oswald’s trailer repaired within the hour,” the Matriarch offered a smile then checked her watch as the sounds of motorcycle engines pulling into the parking lot echoed off the surrounding buildings. “That’ll be Jax, Lowell and Bobby.” 

“Ali was just going to ask if we could get her trailer in sometime? It has some...damage to the walls,” Juice didn’t know why he was withholding information from Gemma since she would see the trailer, maybe it had something to do with the feeling in the pit of his stomach that he shared a secret with the woman standing just in front of him. 

“Ali,” Gemma rolled the name over in her mouth a little, pursing her lips a little before tilting her head to one side, “lot’s of repair work coming in from Oswald’s, everything okay up there on his mighty mountain?”  
The long braid poking out the back of Ali’s cap swayed as she shook her head, “everything is fine, just a lot of work that I either can’t do myself due to not having the training or just don’t have the time. I need the trailers to work to avoid wasting my time with Charming’s finest and the work trucks in order to not have to charge Mr. Oswald mileage every time I leave the property,” which she had been. 

“Well, we’ll take Elliott’s business, and yours, any day,” Gemma gave a smile that had Juice feeling a little nervous but wasn’t allowed time to dwell when handed a clipboard to help Ali begin filling out what needed to be done to her trailer. 

Stepping back out into the parking lot, the sun reflecting off the hood of the parked cars and bikes.

“Hey, Juice,” Jax wandered up but his attention and that Prince Charming smile were directed at Ali, “and good morning to you, darlin. He treating you okay?” 

“Fine,” Ali’s tone was blunt, almost bored as she looked at the approaching group of men with an almost analytic scowl, “a Tig? Is working on my trailer? But...Juice,” looking to the Puerto Rican to make sure she was calling him the correct title and he nodded, ecstatic that she now knew his name. “Was about to have me fill out some paperwork for my personal trailer.” 

“Atta boy, well if you need any other help, just give a holler for Jackson,” Jax winked and Bobby mouthed Jackson with a confused expression on his face, how young people flirted nowadays was exhausting. 

But Ali didn’t return the smile as she watched Jax and the rest walk away, turning suddenly back to Juice and holding out her hand for the clipboard, a little taken aback when he didn’t hand it over right away.

“So, what all needs to be done besides the wall repair,” Juice began to walk towards a picnic table in hopes that Ali would follow and, because she wants her beloved trailer fixed, she does follow with a determined stride. 

“You recognize that accent from anywhere,” Bobby asked Tig as he came inside to “swap out a tool” and the blue-eyed man shook his head. 

“I mean, other than from when I’ve gone up the Wahewa Rez but she’s not from there, plates are from Montana,” Tig scratched his nose, “I got all our shit cleaned up from the back, she can have it back whenever.” 

“Juice mentioned she had another trailer we could work on?” Jax looked to Bobby as he cleared his throat. 

“The Scot was going on about that,” Bobby dropped his voice, “said that Juicy found out the squaw ran into some trouble with Darby’s crew, six men forced her to pull over and ripped open a bunch of grain bags looking for AK’s, no cops got involved and Darby is nowhere to be found.”

“Maybe there was a little massacre, think she scalped’em,” Tig chuckled but was the only one laughing, “you know what, fuck you guys, that was funny.”

“Let’s get back on track here, what we know is that she was attacked, has an idea in her head that we deal in guns, we assume these six men are missing when they could have just driven away,” Jax pointed out, doubting that any one, let alone this woman, could take down six men and still be fully functional and not a nervous wreck, “and hasn’t called the cops...who gets robbed on the side of a highway and doesn’t contact the authorities.” 

“Someone who is probably on the run from them,” Bobby grumbled, looking across the parking lot to where Juice was eagerly helping Ali with the paperwork while the woman seemed to be perplexed as to how someone could ever be this enthusiastic. “Or, just wants to keep a low profile,” more so adding that on for the sake of the kid.

“Either way, we keep a close eye on her,” Jax decided with his deep VP tone and the Secretary gave a nod.

“I can keep a real close eye on her,” Tig grinned, one eyebrow arching.

“What is it with you and dark skinned girls lately, there was that chick at the Jellybean-” Bobby began but Tig gave him a pointed look. 

“I’m on an exotic kick, what can I say?” Tig gave a little shrug as he eyed his cup of coffee, picking out a bit of something that had gotten into it and flicking it away, noticing that his brothers all seemed to be giving different looks. “What? Why does everyone have to be so PC all the time, native isn’t exotic?”

“It’s technically the least exotic,” Jax argued and Bobby laughed while Tig grumbled his way into Gemma’s office, “now my ma can lick his damn wounds,” deciding that he should try and get some work done, he could have Juice fill him in later on what he and the new girl in town talked about. 

“Think that has...just about everything, just need you to fill out your personal info at the top,” Juice had tried and failed miserably to scoot closer to the woman sitting with him on the bench of the picnic table. Wanting to pick the little bit of hay out of her hair but she always seemed to adjust herself in a way that clearly said do not come closer to me. 

“There,” standing slowly, Ali began to cross the parking lot. Green eyes scanning the pages to ensure that everything was filled out correctly as far as insurance.  
“So, how did you get the job at Oswald’s?” Juice trotted to catch up to her determined steps. 

“Applied for it,” Ali tucked the clipboard under her arm in a no-nonsense manner that had Juice smiling almost dumbly. 

“I meant how did you hear about it? Your plates are from Montana, that’s why I ask…” trailing off when they both stopped about half-way to the office. 

“What are you doing” lips forming a flat line while one hip popped to the side, as if giving off a bit of an attitude. 

Mouth opening and closing as he tried to form the right words, “just, uh, trying to make friendly conversation. Take it you’re not one for small-talk?” The silence was his answer. “I was just...genuinely curious as to how someone, anyone, becomes the manager of a barn for a towns mayor when they’re not from the area.” 

“How did you become a part of a motorcycle club if you’re not from around here,” Ali countered, his accent had been one of the first things she noticed about him, “you have an east coast accent.” 

“You noticed that,” that sunshine grin while his hand came up to nervously scratch the back of his head, “long story.”

“So is mine, and we both have to get back to work,” Ali then turned and closed the distance between her and the office. Giving a gentle knock to announce herself to Gemma, “when shall I bring in my trailer?”

“How about...two days, these guys are a little backed up but with Oswald’s trailer in working order then you should be good?” Gemma sat back in her chair, eyeing up the girl that the guys all seemed to be so interested in. Then again, new shiny things always lost their luster very quickly with the SAMCRO boys. 

“Works for me, thank you,” Ali was fully aware that she hadn’t been the easiest of customers, paying for the repairs with Oswald’s business card, set down her paperwork for her own trailer and was out the door to her own truck in one swift movement. 

“Need any help getting hooked up,” Tig appeared at Ali’s passenger window, not wanting to scare her by popping up in her driver window and risk getting some type of sexual harassment charge for standing too close. 

“I got it, thanks,” Ali started up her diesel dually, pulling forward to complete a three point turn to back up her truck so that the gooseneck trailer was lined up perfectly with the hitch-ball. 

“A woman that knows how to hook up a trailer and….drive out without jack-knifing,” Tig casually leaned an elbow on Juice’s shoulder, “do I know how to pick’em or what?” 

“Fuck off, Tig, she didn’t even pay attention to you, how do you think she can like you,” Juice grumbled, shoving his brothers arm off of him.

“Don’t need to like me to want me, Juicy-boy,” Tig cackled at the glare he received before sauntering into the garage where Gemma was giving him a look through the blinds, quickly blowing her a kiss to show that she was still his number one girl. 

“Like hell she does,” Juice mumbled to himself, turning to get back to work when Bobby and Jax each clapped him on opposite shoulders to lead him toward the clubhouse. 

“Gotta few questions about your new pal, kid,” Bobby reassured the anxious young man as his brown eyes widened, “just want to know what you know and if this could end badly for SAMCRO.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience in me posting the second part of this fic - I had a bit of a zap in creative energy and am going to try and get caught up with the goal I have set for myself.


	3. The Edge of Tonight Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juice hits a possible snag in his endeavor to win over Oswald's newest employee's affections.

The next two days were spent researching any new developments with The Nords while trying to not call attention to the Sons; with Juice spending any free moment he had worrying about if the gang was planning any type of retaliation against Ali. 

“I just got off the phone with Darby, dirtbag said that they had a little trouble with a mean little thing about a month ago,” Clay sipped his coffee outside the clubhouse, the early morning sun forcing him to adjust his sunglasses from the top of his head to rest on the bridge of his nose. “When I told him we had just happened along the trailer and that we didn’t receive word about this to act upon the attack, he calmed that methed out head of his down real quick.” 

“Did he say why they stopped her,” Juice had his coveralls on but not zipped up as he smoked. Ali had mentioned that The Nords were looking for AK’s but that didn’t mean Darby would tell Clay the truth.

The President let out an annoyed sigh, “what, look, I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to find jack-shit on her, lots of Ali Wolf’s but none of them are her,” Juice’s shoulders lifted up, only dropping them down to put out his cigarette in the coffee can full of dirt. 

“So, that’s it, we give up as to why she was okay with being attacked,” Clay kept his voice down but there was a challenging tone creeping in. “This ain’t got nothing to do with you being sweet on the gash, does it?”

“No, Clay,” Juice knew he hadn’t exactly played the smooth card when Ali showed up at the garage a couple days prior but that wouldn’t prevent him from doing a job for the club, his family. “I can try looking...seeing if she’s had any other names, name changes,” clarifying and Clay’s lower row of teeth appeared as he grinned up at the young man. 

“That’s more like it, or you could just ask her,” Clay used his cigar to point toward the entrance to T.M. as a familiar truck hauling a trailer pulled into the lot and parked where Jax pointed with that charming grin that always seemed to be in his back pocket when a woman came around. 

“Jesus, you weren’t kidding about the damage,” Jax squinted at the bullet-holes littering the side of the trailer, only once it was no longer moving does he take in the artwork, “I could definitely see why the Nords thought the trailer was ours,” the blonde slowly made his way up to the driver’s door with the clear intention of opening it to be a gentleman but took a step back when it swung open and nearly caught his forearm. 

Hopping out of the truck with a quick adjustment of the dirty baseball cap with an emblem that the biker didn’t quite recognize, Ali surveyed the parking lot and it’s loitering men for a moment as she scratched her nose with the back of her leather-gloved hand. “I’ll get it unhooked,” not bothering to wait for any offer of help as she went about unhooking the trailer from her truck. 

“You gonna talk to her,” Clay nudged Juice with his elbow to snap the younger man out of the trance he was under. Watching her sweat streaked muscle flex as she lowered the trailer lift to the ground. The hour was barely past 8AM but there was no mistake that the farmhand had already been hard at work. 

“Y-yeah,” Juice moved past Jax with an expression that said this was the boss’s orders and up to Ali, “good morning, Ali, how’s Oswald’s trailer handling?” A wince forming on his face as the metal on metal sound was one he would never be able to get used to. 

“Fine,” Ali paused for a moment to look up at Juice, the bruises from the encounter with the Nords were beginning to blend in with her darkening complexion. No doubt thanks to working in the California sun but Juice was reminded that the woman of few words is not one for idle chit chat as her hands went back to work. “The tack room and back have both been completely cleaned out, didn’t want you city boys having to worry about getting horse shit on your shoes.” 

“Appreciate it,” Juice can’t argue with her observation as he was definitely not a country or even a small-town boy. “I, uh, had a quick question when filing your paperwork, the insurance is under a different name?” 

A pause and then Ali let out an annoyed sound that Juice realized was directed at herself, opening the driver door to procure her wallet, “I bet you put Wolf,” pulling out her brand new California driver’s license, “want my CDL, too?” 

“Nah, you’re good but how...how do you pronounce your last name?” Juice did not want to even try for fear of completely butchering her name; no wonder she went by Wolf. 

“Just easier to call me Wolf, it’s the english translation,” Ali frowned, “are you...going to get my paperwork updated or do I need to bring that to Gemma for you?” An eyebrow raising as the biker was just standing there with her license in his hands and a smile on his face. 

“Oh, yeah, I’ll bring this right back, coffee? No creamer,” not waiting for an answer, Juice trotted into the office and found the clipboard hanging up with the other work orders they needed to complete and updated the last name. Now he had a bit more of a lead at least with her real name and knowing her previous address would be somewhere in Montana. “Okay, Miss Ali...you’re a Scorpio, only six months younger than me,” looking over the picture, somehow she managed to even make glaring at the camera look stunning. 

Turning while tapping the ID against his fingertips, Juice stepped out of the dimly lit office to find Tig leaning against the hood of the truck, trying to talk to Ali. 

“He is laying it on thick, brotha,” Juice’s expression was about to shift into a frown when he noticed that Ali not only looked his way but seemed to perk up at the sight of him, that sunshine smile breaking out for all to see. 

“Don’t think she’s interested,” a little pep in his step as he extended the driver’s license to its rightful owner, “thanks, everything is all sorted out, I’ll get started on the repairs today and we have a guy who has an eye for art coming down from Tacoma tomorrow who can touch up the mural.”

“Happy’s coming down,” Tig interjected himself into the conversation easily, resting his thumbs on where his belt rest underneath his coveralls, “should be a good time, might have to have a little party,” although, if Happy was coming into town that usually meant the club had work to do and someone probably needed to be dead. 

“How much will he charge,” Ali tucked her ID back into her tattered leather wallet. 

“He’s pretty reasonable, likes doing stuff like this,” Juice knew that while Happy was cheap he didn’t like to cheat people for his work, “I’ll make sure to let him know the circumstances of the damage,” giving Ali a little wink then cut in between her and Tig to open up her door as she went to do it herself. 

There was a pause in between the door opening and Ali actually getting in, the gears visibly turning in her head as if she wanted to close and then open the door herself, “thanks,” climbing up into her truck, “how long until I should come pick it up,” lighting a cigarette as she asked, careful to not exhale into either of the men’s directions. 

“We can give you a call, doll,” Tig grinned almost wolfishly, “maybe even run it out to you, haven’t been to Oswald’s in awhile.” 

“That won’t be necessary, I have my cell on me,” Ali picked up the ancient flip phone to show that she did, in fact, have one. The flat line of her lips curved downward when she noticed the amused gleam in Juice’s eye at the sight of her phone. Almost tempted to give him an explanation as to why she had something so outdated when the phone rang, “gigs,” she started up her truck and carefully made a u-turn in the lot and pulled away. 

“Gigs, there’s that word again,” Juice mumbled more to himself than to the man standing next to him. 

“Yeah, could be an Indian word,” Tig gave a little roll of his neck to crack it then shook his shoulders, “now, some of us have work to do,” reaching for the clipboard but Juice managed to keep the papers just out of reach and received a growl for the game of keep-away. 

“Gemma has you on repo’s today so that way you’re off early to help Clay,” more guns to be put together and then transported to the Niners for a drop off. 

“Suppose he needs his right hand man and not his little errand boy for a man’s job,” Tig smirked down at Juice before heading toward the office to grab the repo-list, grumbling as he got into the truck and someone had changed the channel to some AT40, “bull shit music.” 

Wasting no time, Juice pulled up a video on his phone to remind himself how to repair the bullet-holes then set to work on making sure there were as few blemishes as possible so that Happy had a smooth surface to work on. Hoping but not entirely expecting that a job well done might score some major brownie points with the new girl in town. 

“Whatcha doin, Juicy?” The sing-song voice of Riley pulled Juice from his thoughts as he set the torch down and lifted up his mask. Smiling kindly when she offered him a PB&J sandwich, 

“Thanks, Ri,” accepting the sandwich as he sat down at the edge of the trailer, taking a healthy bite after removing his welding gloves. 

“You’re pretty sweet on the new girl,” Riley mused, not jealous that another girl was getting all of the attention, never jealous. Simply curious as to what her friends intentions were. 

“That obvious?” Juice was beginning to wonder if Ali was either oblivious toward his emotions or simply didn’t care enough to notice if all of his brothers and even the crows were picking up on them. 

“Just a lil-bit,” Riley leaned back to rest on her palms, short legs able to swing easily once sitting down on the edge of the trailer. “Ever notice the tire tracks on the mats?” 

“Say what, now?” Juice had gone into his head again to try and figure out how he could be more subtle yet direct that he was interested in Ali when Riley’s question pulled him back to the here and now. Polishing off his sandwich with a deep swig from his water bottle. 

“Tire tracks, look like ones from a bike,” a motorcycle, Juice definitely saw them now, head tilting as he grabbed his phone to take a photo of the treadmarks. 

Watching as the man went about tracing his fingers along the worn down mats, muttering to himself as he seemed determined to figure out who this woman was by reading them like a palm. Riley couldn’t help but smile as she stood up and smoothed out the fabric of her form-fitting cotton dress. 

“If she’s into horses, drives a truck that requires a CDL and rides a bike,” Riley smirked as she knew what would be said next was going to get Juice’s goat, “what if she’s not into dudes?”

Eyes widening, heart dropping into his boots, Juice hadn’t thought of that. What if the woman that he had been daydreaming about wasn’t even into men?


	4. The Edge of Tonight Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our beloved ray of sunshine finds out the truth as to why his advances aren't being reciprocated.

The theme song to a cartoon show could be heard from Juice’s living room early one morning as he shuffled out in a pair of plaid sleep-pants and a white undershirt, wiping at his eye with the heel of his hand as he came into the room. Trying to figure out what time the hour was. 

“Mornin,” the large, bald man on the couch said through a mouthful of sugary, marshmallow cereal, “thanks for these,” using his spoon to motion to the contents of the bowl. 

“No problem, Hap,” Juice swung into his bathroom to take a piss, put in his contacts and brush his teeth before going to his kitchen to grab the box of Captain Crunch, “leave enough milk?”

“You’re almost out but I left enough for you,” Happy shifted to rest his elbows on his knees, having fixed the makeshift bed he had made on Juice’s couch. One of the many he would surf on when staying in Charming. 

Grunting his thanks, Juice really only bought a few groceries here and there while keeping most of his supplies at the clubhouse. Sealed and labeled as sometimes his drunken brothers dug into the fridge and cupboards without much thought as to what belonged to who. 

“Any headway on that gash Clay has you looking into,” Happy had gotten in late after talking with the mother-charters President and Juice was tapping away on his computer when Happy finally passed out on the faux-leather couch. 

A silence settled over the room, only the sounds of crunching could be heard and Happy wondered if he had only thought to ask the question but didn’t actually voice it until he saw the sour look on Juice’s face. “Said he asked you to almost two weeks ago?” His trip had been delayed due to his mother’s decline in health, once she was stabilized he made the trip to Charming. 

“I know and I have,” Juice was up and back in the kitchen, slamming a few cupboard doors around as he found the coffee grounds, filter and began to add the water to the keraf. “All I found was some rodeo results and...some type of health papers for her horse, nothing that would lead to a real reason why she didn’t call the cops the night the Nords pulled her over.”

But Clay wouldn’t hear any of that, claiming that Juice was not looking hard enough into the girl because he had a thing for her but even that he was having to suppress as Riley’s question as to if Ali even liked the opposite sex; his anxiety bad enough over her liking him at all. 

“She from the Wahewa up north?” Happy asked, having heard the woman was native. 

“No, she’s not from around here. Plates that were in the nose of the trailer were from Montana,” Clay had also asked that Juice go over the trailer with a fine-toothed comb after getting the repairs done to see if she had left any clues. There were none, the whole back had been pressure washed and the tack room completely cleaned out, aside from the plates. Juice had even gone so far as to lift the mats to check underneath for anything left on the freshly swept floor. Nothing. When Ali had told him the back was cleaned out she meant it. 

Another long silence, only the muffled sounds of Charming beginning to wake up filtered in then Happy made a noise that had Juice’s head snapping to look at him. “What? Think of something?”

“What if she just doesn’t trust the police or...she smoke weed, any other drugs. Priors?” Happy was offering a fresh set of eyes on the situation, knowing full well that the younger man could easily get hung up on the smallest of details at times. 

“I...I’m not sure,” disappearing to grab his laptop before coming back into the living room, the scent of coffee filling the air. Once done booting up the device, Juice began to search through the customer records at Clear Passages, “if she does smoke weed then it’s not from the shop.”

“Which means it’s probably not legal,” Happy waited for Juice to put the pieces together, a ghost of a smirk appearing once the lightbulb went off. 

“She might have had weed or something illegal on her that might have gotten her into trouble,” Juice would have to ask or, more accurately, add that to his plan with Riley once Ali stopped by to pick up her trailer. “Shit, that makes a lotta sense.” 

“Glad I could help,” Happy said after downing the sugary milk, “I’ll get cleaned up quick,” standing up to put his bowl in the small dishwasher, doing a roll of his shoulders to help relieve the tension. He could stay at the clubhouse but knowing that Juice was clean and was well aware Juice also didn’t like to be alone, the Killer just crashed in his one bedroom condo even if it mean sharing a bathroom. 

“Thanks,” Juice then went to work cleaning up the living room, not that Happy was a messy house guest but just to keep himself busy as he thought over what was more than likely the reason Ali hadn’t bothered to contact the city or county police department for help. Granted, if she was into anything illegal there was a silent prayer said that the drug of choice was weed and nothing stronger. 

Once Happy was finished with the bathroom, Juice showered and was ready for the day in a black Reaper Crew t-shirt and his work pants that would allow for him to bend and move around in the trailer as he welded the last of the damage and sand off the bumps so Happy could airbrush on as smooth of a surface as possible. 

Luckily, Clay was off with Tig somewhere so when the two men rolled into the T.M. parking lot there were only a handful of the guys, and Gemma, around. Meaning that Juice had plenty of time to work out how to explain Happy’s idea to the President in a way that didn’t make him sound like a nervous wreck. 

“I’m gonna finish up on that trailer,” Juice called to the matriarch as he put in his headphones and flipped down the welding visor as he went to work. So when an overheating truck pulled in he didn’t hear Gemma calling for him to come help. 

“Jesus, is everything falling apart at Oswald’s?” Gemma asked a sweat-drenched Ali, the heat had been blasting the whole way to help keep the engine from flooding. 

“Think it’s the thermostat getting stuck, fan is running okay,” Ali had stopped a few times on the way into town to grab more nails and lumber to repair fencing to pop open the hood and let the engine cool off. “It’s an old truck.” 

“No problem, darling, we’ll get this fixed so you can get on your way,” Gemma helped guide the farmhand into the air conditioned office so that she could cool off, “mind if I ask how long you’ve been up at Oswald’s?” Closing the door behind them, motioning for Ali to sit on the couch underneath the window unit. 

“Started just after Memorial Day weekend,” Ali was thankful for the icy air washing over her, not wanting to settle back against the pleather for fear of her bare shoulder blades becoming stuck to it as her tank top was soaked through. 

Bringing out a clipboard with the required paperwork on it that the newcomer could probably fill out in her sleep at this point, Gemma gave a little nod, “take it you’re not from around here if the heat is still bothering you this much,” especially given the fact that it was now the beginning of September.

“Not constant heat, no,” Ali wiped her nose with the back of her hand as sweat was about to drip down the bridge of it and onto the form. Excusing herself as she used the hem of her shirt to wipe off her face and Gemma was able to see that her from just the quick flash of her middle that the skin there was also covered in tattoo’s.. 

“Mind if I ask where you’re from,” Gemma crossed over to the water cooler and filled up a large, styrofoam cup and grabbed a few brown napkins for Ali to help wipe herself off with. 

“Thank you,” Ali sipped on the water to avoid making herself sick, dipping one of the napkins into the water then placed the soaked material on the back of her neck to help cool off. “Was up in Montana for a bit.” 

“Montana? Charming is a long ways from home,” Gemma took her seat at her desk, keeping an ear on the guys in the shop while also focusing on the woman in front of her. Something about her had the matriarch’s interest peaked in a way that hadn’t happened in a long time. 

“It is, but that wasn’t home,” Ali mumbled, she could feel those dark brown eyes boring into her and did not like being picked apart. Focusing on getting the paperwork done quickly so that she could get the truck fixed and back on the road to continue repairing fence. 

“Where is home?” Gemma barely had the question out of her mouth when the door leading into the garage opened up and a head of black curls poked in. 

“Hey, Gem, what do you want us to do with-,” Tig followed Gemma’s line of vision to see the green-eyed woman filling out paperwork, “back so soon, doll? Think Juice is still working on your trailer, refuses to let anyone else help out,” looking to the Matriarch as he said this. 

“His eyes are better, Tiggy, what do you need?” Gemma snapped a little bit at him for interrupting. 

“All done with the paperwork,” Ali stood up and was about to set the clipboard down when Tig intercepted it, stepping into her bubble as he did. The biker couldn’t help but smirk as he misunderstood the bristling of the woman to her becoming flustered as he watched her retreating back head for the door, only pausing to grab the cup of water. 

“We’ll get started on the truck right away, doll,” Tig glanced down at the form before tossing the clipboard onto the table as the door closed without so much as another word toward him. Gemma made a noise in her throat to gather his attention, “what? I was just coming in to ask what was needed to be done about Oswald’s truck.”

“You’re unbelievable, and your timing sucks,” Gemma took the clipboard and lightly hit Tig on the arm with it, “get out there and get it fixed but if anyone gets her to talk...send them my way, want to know more about this little tarte and why she’s so damn tight-lipped.” 

“You are the boss,” Tig offered a grin to help smooth some of Gemma’s ruffled feathers then turned and went back out into the garage where Happy, Chibs, Jax and Lowell. “I gotta go check on Oswald’s truck, you got that stereo system?” Nodding to Chibs. 

“Aye, ye ruddy bastard, where’s Juicy ta get this shit wired,” Chibs was not exactly with the times when it came to electronics and the more frustrated he became the more the garage echoed with his swearing and suppressed snorts of laughter as the rest of the guys tried to not anger the fiery Scot any further. 

With his sights set on talking to Ali more, Tig wandered out through the bay door and squinted to try and find her when he saw a familiar figure strutting her way across the parking lot. Eyes locked onto the same target and with a flick of her long dark hair over her shoulder, Tig knew that he needed to stand down while Riley sniffed out the new girl. 

“Hey, darlin,” Riley sided up next to Ali as she sat in the only shaded spot the picnic table provided near T.M., “you look like you’re burning up, why don’t we get you inside where it’s nice and cool, yeah?” 

Icy blue locked with emerald green for a solid ten seconds before any other words were said, “who’re you?” A smile spread across the crows delicate features. 

“I’m whoever you need me to be, but you may call me Riley,” Riley batted her mascara coated eyelashes at Ali, resorting to being playfully polite to try and lure her in. “What do you say, little break from the sun and maybe a drink?” 

“Where,” Ali leaned forward on her elbows, looking up at Riley as she sat on the edge of the table and looked at Ali over her bare shoulder. The halter top doing nothing but emphasising her full chest. 

“In the clubhouse, figure your employer is the reason why the guys are probably able to pay their dues for the club lately,” Riley held out her hand, “what do ya say?” 

There was a moment of hesitation where Ali seemed to consider the offer but her eyes glanced toward her trailer, “mind if we stop by to check on that piece of work first,” tongue slowly coming out to lick her lips after she asked. 

“No trouble at all,” Riley still had her had extended until Ali politely declined, walking slow enough that the woman in heels could keep up as her mini-skirt didn’t provide much in the way of moment. 

“...seen those bright green eyes..” Juice hummed to himself as the iPod in the pocket of his jeans had jumped way back to Justin Timberlake and he couldn’t help himself as he changed the lyrics a little to fit the woman that took so much of his thoughts. Smiling as he flipped his mask up when he remembered that Chibs had called Ali senorita the first night they met, how fitting. 

Doing a little dance, careful to not rock the trailer when that might catch any of his brothers attention and they would never stop teasing him for dancing on the job, as he surveyed his work and bobbed his head to the beat. Hips and shoulders moving in perfect time with the beat, once again thinking back to when he had caught Ali dancing like no one was watching. Imagining her body pressed up against his in perfect sync to the music. 

What Juice hadn’t planned on was that exact woman peeking around the corner as he really got into the song, “it feels like something’s heating up, can I leave witchu,” doing a little spin when he caught sight of someone watching and his stomach dropped. “Sh-shit,” they were gone just as quickly as they had been spotted and he swallowed hard. Trying to regain his composure as Juice knew full well that if the person watching had been a crow that they would have joined him in the little dance party, his brothers or Gemma would have called him out for fucking around on the job but this person had smirked and just disappeared. 

“Ready for that drink? Juice is doing a really great job on your trailer,” Riley hadn’t stopped Ali in checking up on Juice, liking the playful gleam in her eye when she returned to her and the two walked closely together towards the clubhouse. 

A nod but nothing more as she felt someone staring at her from the trailer and knew that Juice would put two and two together relatively quickly that he had been busted jamming out to Justin Timberlake by her. 

“Fuck...goddamnit,” Juice checked the time, close enough to lunch but he needed to play this cool. Taking off the visor, he unzipped the coveralls and tied the arms around his waist as he walked slowly to the clubhouse. Entering just as Riley was grabbing Ali a drink. 

“You look like a whiskey kinda girl,” Riley reached for a glass, bending over to show off her ass a little bit more than necessary, she straightened and offered ice. 

“Please,” Ali needed to cool off, not bothering to look toward the door as sunlight poured in and Juice walked into the main room of the clubhouse. 

“Hi, Juicy, on your lunch,” Riley slid Ali her drink while grabbing herself a beer and offered one to Juice. 

“I would but I gotta work the blowtorch a little bit more today, Riles, thanks though,” Juice did grab a bottle of water from the cooler behind the bar and slowly looked in Ali’s direction but found that she hadn’t even glanced his way, he would have felt it, instead her focus was on Riley. 

“So, Ali right, what do you do up at Oswald’s exactly?” Riley rested her hands on the edge of the bar, putting her chest and small waist on full display for the woman sitting across from her. 

 

“Yeah,” Ali wondered how this woman was able to figure out her name without going through formal introductions, “started off mucking stalls, worked my way up to barn manager, still cleaning stalls but now I get paid a little better and do paperwork.” 

“Wow, you must be really strong,” Riley slowly reached across to lightly trace her fingers along Ali’s bicep and Juice nearly squeezed his bottle so tightly that it just about ripped in half. He wanted to be the one to touch Ali that way. 

“Mmm, enough, I guess,” Ali slowly leaned back and caught Riley’s little pout at the break in contact, giving a little shake of her head as her gaze dropped down to the contents of her glass. Taking that opportunity, Riley used her eyes to tell Juice to take his chance and do something to interact with this woman because she really wasn’t getting anywhere with her and this rarely happened. Either the woman had no sexuality or she was damn near the level of a monk as far as giving in to the temptations of the flesh. 

Crossing around behind Riley, Juice stepped out from behind the bar and lightly placed his hand on the small of Ali’s back, “did you get a chance to check out the trailer at all?” His voice a little raspy when she turned just her head to look up at him. 

“I did,” there was a ghost of a smirk on Ali’s face as she told him, “just you that’s been working on it, I hear?” Juice nodded as she took a sip, “nice work.”

The smile that came through was one that Ali was not quite ready for, unable to help herself as she looked away and Juice had to use all of his self-control to not skip his way into the kitchen to grab his lunch. 

“He likes you,” Riley said just loud enough for Ali to hear but Juice froze in his tracks just inside the kitchen when his friend confessed his feelings for him. Heart hammering in his chest as he waited on bated breath for the woman of his dreams to say something, saying a silent prayer to anyone that was listening that she feel the same way.

“Too bad,” Ali sounded almost forlorn as the empty glass came to rest on the bartop. 

“What do you mean?” Riley watched as she stood from the barstool to fish out a few dollars to cover the drink and a tip, taking the opportunity to pick her words carefully as she had a feeling Juice was listening. 

“Part of my deal with Oswald...if I want to keep my job, I don’t have anything other than a business relationship with those that work at T.M. and I am never to get into any type of relationship with a Son,” Ali explained, pushing the stool back in after setting the money down next to the empty glass that Riley had yet to take. 

All of the air felt like it had been sucked out of Juice’s lungs, what would happen if Ali did get into a relationship? What then? What could Oswald honestly do that would be so terrible, dock her pay? He could try and help her make up the difference if she would just give him a chance. 

“What would happen if you did?” Riley called after Ali, boots echoing on the floor until she stopped just in front of the door. 

“I lose my job and Oswald made a point in telling me that if I lose the job with him that no one in town would want to hire me if I can’t follow a simple rule,” Ali let out a soft sigh, “thanks for the drink. Tell Juan to keep up the great work,” and, with that, she was gone in the truck that easily was fixed after Tig and Lowell worked to repair the stuck thermostat.  
“Juicy?” Riley slowly made her way into the kitchen to find her friend staring down at the floor with wide, sad eyes, “awe, baby, come here,” pulling the much taller man into a hug, rubbing his sweaty back over his shirt as she did. “You wanna give up?” A little shake of his head, “then I’ll help you win her over, okay? She doesn’t know what dating a big, bad, biker outlaw means. Right? Bet you could flash Oswald that handsome smile of yours and he’d let you date her.” 

“Think so?” Juice really wasn’t all that great at negotiating. In fact, there wasn’t much he thought that he was good at in this life but when Ali said he did a good job he felt like he could take on the whole world just by those words. 

“I know so, that pretty girl of yours pretty much said that the only reason she wouldn’t be with you was because of that rule. If you do as I say the next few times Ali comes back to check on her trailer? She won’t know what hit’er,” Riley pulled back just far enough out of the hug to give Juice a reassuring wink, the crow had ways to make even the most strong-willed of people crack.


	5. The Edge of Tonight Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Juice seems to be the motive for everyone's actions and offers, he sadly isn't around to soak up the moment. But, that doesn't mean the plan hasn't been put into motion to get him the help he needs.

“Finished,” Happy declared while tugging the ventilation mask down to rest just below his chin. The clear coat would take at least twenty-four hours to dry but the mural, in his opinion, looked pretty damn good.

Having opted for painting over the entire mural to help cover up other rusting spots did result in the process taking nearly twice as long as each coat took about six to eight hours to dry, but the finished product was worth the effort. 

“I think you’ve outdone yourself this time, killer,” Riley’s arms wrapped comfortably around his waist, Happy nodded and hummed, briefly, while tucking a toothpick in between his lips now that his mouth didn’t need covering. “When does she come to pick it up?”

“Could have Gem give her a call tomorrow,” Happy didn’t feel like walking all the way to the office to locate the paperwork for the trailer when a beautiful woman was pressing her form against his back. 

“I have Ali’s number, can shoot her a text to see if she wants to see your work at least,” Riley offered and knew what Happy’s question would be, “long story,” pulling the device out from its hiding place in her bra to send Ali a quick text. 

Surprised to receive an OMW response almost immediately. 

“You’ll finally get to meet her,” Riley tucked the phone away, smirking as Happy always seemed to enjoy when she adjusted her chest. “Oh, should I have messaged Juicy, too?”

“Nah, Clay has him working on something,” Happy unzipped his coveralls and tied the arms around his waist so that they didn’t end up around his ankles. 

“You trying to show off those arms, Killer?” Riley unashamedly enjoyed his heavily tattooed arms as Happy only had an undershirt covering his torso. Receiving a roll of his eyes in return. “Surprised that Mr. Tacoma Sunshine didn’t make the trip with you.”

“He had shit to do, too,” Happy didn’t mind the trip down to Charming on his own but having Kozik along usually made the trip go by more quickly. Bending to pick up the clipboard holding the work order in place, not wanting to get yelled at by Gemma for leaving it out in the elements. 

"Maybe next time? I do like when he and Tiggy arm wrestle," it was a good night if the two men didn't go toe-to-toe in the ring, but a friendly competition usually helped to appease their need to one-up each other. 

"You know it doesn't depend upon me, little girl," Happy kept his strides short so that Riley did not have to run to keep up with him while crossing the parking lot to the office. 

"I do, but I figure that if Kozik hears from a certain handsome friend of his that I miss seeing him around? Then he might try and finagle his way into coming down here," watching Happy set the clipboard on Gemma's cluttered desk, smiling as she knew that untidiness was one of his pet peeves. "Come on, Killer, before you start cleaning and end up pissing her off? Juice tried helping her once, and she couldn't find the paperwork to do payroll for almost a week," taking Happy's hand to usher him out, closing the door behind them gently.

"Organized chaos," Happy couldn't understand how people could function that way, but the line of work he did for the club required nothing short of perfection as far as cleanliness. 

"Something like that," Riley ran her hands up Happy's forearms as they came to stand next to one of the picnic tables near the entrance to the office. 

While Happy was well aware that Riley was unofficially Tig's favorite crow, he also hadn't had the chance to take part in any extracurricular activities since arriving in Charming due to either being on gun-assembly duty or one of the mules to meet up with the One-Niners. "How long does it take to get from Oswald's to here," sinewy hands cascading down Riley's back to her ass, massaging through the fabric of the skirt she wore. 

"Hmmm, we both know how long you can last," Riley's eyes went from Happy's crotch to the intense stare he wore. "I don't think Gem would appreciate a customer rolling into the parking lot with me on my knees and your co-." the growl that rumbled deep in Happy's throat informed Riley that unless ready to do what she was describing that her lips were best left sealed. 

"Later, Killer, promise. After my shift at Lola's," Riley let loose her dark, chocolate brown hair only to tie the locks back into a high pony-tail. A hairstyle that she wore when about to give head and every Son that had been with the sweet crow knew this. 

"If Tig doesn't come along," Happy looked to the line of bikes where Tigs was parked next to Clay's, unable to help the snort when Riley piped up that she belonged to no one. "Never said you did." 

A miffed hum slipped past Riley's painted lips, which could have been confused with her being annoyed with Happy insinuating in his way that she was Tigs' and Tigs' alone; when the last few nights he had been all about the newest crow. Wanting to, "break her in," as he so eloquently put it. 

Never one to be jealous, Riley's firm belief in being there for the Sons in any way that they needed her kept that in check, but Tig understood and satisfied unlike any other. 

The rolling sound of a diesel engine brought the two out of their deep thoughts, "that her?" Riley acquiesced. 

Hopping out of the truck, gone was the dirty cap, t-shirt, boots, and jeans. Raven hair secured in a fishtail braid, a form-fitting tank top, flats, and skinny jeans were in their place, and Riley couldn't help but let slip an appreciative noise, "you Happy?" Emerald eyes were wasting no time zeroing in on the mechanic approaching her. 

"Yeah," Happy could only assume that Juice let her know who would be working on the trailers paint job, the private man didn't go making himself known outside the club. The more mystery and rumor surrounding him the better. 

"Nice work," Ali's hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans, scanning the mural with an unreadable expression breaking through her ordinarily stoic features. 

Not very often was Happy intrigued by someone outside the club but the energy emanating from the woman a couple of yards from him was one that he hadn't encountered in feminine form. Coming to a quick and easy resolution that the reason Ali hadn't called the cops or on the club that night as she was more than comfortable in handling the situation on her own. "Thanks," opening up the back door to show the meticulous work and care Juice took to ensure there were as few welding blemishes as possible. 

Stepping in past Happy, careful to not broach the bubble that was his personal space, Ali's fingertips brushed along where there once were bullet holes. Now solid aluminum. "It'll be nice not to hear that god awful whistling," turning to leave as the smell of wet paint was beginning to spark a headache. 

"You ride," more of a statement and less of a question, Happy's eyes were on the tire tracks embedded into the mats. Gaze flicking up to watch her reaction, a glimmer in the sea of green that hinted she might merely not answer him. How many times had he done that to others? 

"She does," Riley appeared at Happy's side, "don't these guys do great work? We got to talking at Lola's the other night," grinning at the fact she was the one to see Ali outside of TM while Juice was left pining for her. "Didn't we, darlin'?" 

"Yeah," Ali made a mistake in assuming Riley would keep her frequenting the bar the crow worked at a secret. More of a dance club, really, Ali went on a whim to try and blow off some steam after a long day of arguing with Diego, the redneck farmhand at Oswald's, at every turn. 

"You headed there now?" Riley hesitated on her follow up question on if Ali might have gotten all dressed up in case Juice was there, a topic that the woman avoided like the plague when picking up one whiskey sour after the other. 

"Nah," Ali joined the two outside the trailer and closed the door behind her, latching the chain out of habit. "Pick it up tomorrow? How much do I owe you?" Already moving toward the driver door of the pickup, to leave or grab her wallet depending on what Happy's answer was. 

"Haven't totaled it up yet," Happy's toothpick gave a quick flip, one eyebrow arching when she popped the door open. "Should have that all finished tomorrow morning," he was one of those that could go to bed late and rise early, giving the illusion that he never slept, but anyone that knew anything would put the two together that the best cartoons play at those strange hours. 

"Thank you," Ali made to get into her truck when Riley called out to her, receiving a curious look in return. 

"Did you want to have a drink inside? Or, are you off to go dance with that guy who pulled you out onto the floor during that Jesse McCartney song," Ali made her debut appearance during one of the clubs flashback theme nights. 

"No," not closing her door but also not making to get out, either. 

"I asked you two questions, darlin', was that a no to both?" Riley's painted lips stretched into a coy grin, the skin around her eyes crinkling a little when Ali's tongue ran along her top teeth to keep from sharing the expression. 

"You asked me why I didn't bother giving anyone here the time of day, right," Riley remembered, "since then, my contract hasn't changed in the slightest." Ali's fingers came up to brush against her keychain lightly. 

"That still wasn't an answer to any of my questions, we're up to three now," Riley was discovering flirting with Ali so blatantly and not receiving her usual reaction to be quite the rush, similar to when one of the guys was trying to play hard to get. 

"I wasn't planning on heading to Lola's," the reason that Ali wasn't in her barn attire was due to meeting up with someone for coffee, which apparently hadn't ended well since she was there and not with her date. "I should get going," moving to close her door. 

"What kinda bike do you ride," the uncharacteristic question from Happy had Riley spinning to look at him curiously while Ali gave a one-shouldered shrug. 

"It's a Harley," the motorcycle was nearly neglected compared to the horse in her care. 

"What kind?" Happy couldn't help but frown when Ali pulled out the paperwork; clearly, she didn't know the machine very well. 

"When's the last time you had it looked at," Riley tried to get a peek at the model type while Ali read over the information she kept in a folder tucked back in the pockets of the passenger seat. 

"Been awhile, I don't get to ride it much," but now that she was in an area that rarely saw rain and offered mile after mile of scenic routes, there wasn't much of an excuse not to. 

That comment had Happy's frown deepening, "we can bring your trailer out to Oswald's tomorrow, pick up your bike then," the thought of a Harley wasting away in someone's garage was a cardinal sin. When met with silence, assuming Ali may be calculating how much it would cost, he flashed a glance at Riley for her help. 

"Consider it a favor to Oswald, the last thing he needs is you all lamed up because you were forced to lay your bike down," Riley clasped her hands behind her back, swaying a little while giving Ali a sweet smile. "It'll probably be a quick tune-up if you haven't ridden it all that much."


	6. The Edge of Tonight Part Six

"Ya gonna be a little bitch the whole way out to Oswald's," Happy climbed into the driver's seat of the truck while Juice sat staring out the window, watching the droplets trail down the glass as he seemed bound and determined to ignore his Tacoma brother. "Maybe ya can go help Clay with the run for the Niners, then." 

"You guys could have at least told me she was here yesterday! I just found out she goes to Lola's, what the fuck," Juice brought up the same point he tried to prove the night before when he finally arrived at the clubhouse well after midnight to a very content Happy and Riley giving him a cheeky grin. 

"Woulda but do ya think Clay could give a fuck about you wanting to get your dick wet," Happy's tone held a familiar bark that informed Juice the older Son's coffee cup was probably mostly full. 

"Right," zipping up the thick, black hoodie he wore as the rain continued to come down; while essential, especially in California, the break in the sunlight made Juice cold. He abhorred being cold. 

The plan was a bit complex, but Happy wasn't up for changing as the weather wasn't cooperating. The two were going to give the trailer a little test by driving it out to Oswald's to pick up the bike, strap the machine into place before hauling it to TM where Ali would be able to pick them up once available; assuming she worked during the day like them. Driving out to Oswald's ranch property took about twenty minutes, twenty minutes of Happy sipping his coffee and the heel of Juice's boot hitting the floor of the truck as his leg bounced in a nervous tick.

Deaccelerating to take a right onto the paved driveway, Happy and Juice's heads both swiveled to take into account their surroundings. On either side of the path were green pastures fenced off by a smooth wire attached to large posts with yellow, rubber circles, "must be electric," nodding in agreement. As the vehicle rolled along at a snail's pace, the paved, narrow path opened up to a large, gravel parking area. 

The barn looming in front of them and no other vehicles in sight didn't give the two much help as to where they should park the truck and trailer. "Here looks okay," pulling off to the right so that they weren't in the way and would be able to turn around once they were ready to go. 

Hoods pulled up, the pair hopped out, and doors slammed shut in unison to signal their arrival before walking across the soft ground toward the entrance of the barn; the smell of ashwood and hay hung in the damp air. Deciding not to bother with the large barn door, they went to the office door that appeared to be intended for human use and tried the knob. "Locked," the rain was coming down a little harder, the sound almost masking the hoofbeats that vibrated the earth. "Someone's close by," Juice went to the barn doors and turned the latch sideways to pull it open. 

Pristine was the first word that came to mind as he wiped his boots on the mat outside the primary entryway, black mats covering the entire floor as he passed by a couple of doors that read "Authorized Personnel Only." Following his ears, intent on locating the source of the sound, he came to a four-way split with a massive ceiling fan looming above him. On either side of him were walls lined with stalls while another barn-door stood directly in front of him. Pressing on, Juice's attempts to open the top half of the door quietly were in vain as a loud, metallic noise filled the air. 

"Smooth," Happy's voice was suddenly behind him, making Juice nearly jumped out of his skin. "Ya gonna open it all the way?" The hoofbeats stopped, which meant that whoever was on the other side of the doors knew that they had an audience. With a single nod, the top section of the door opened inwards towards what they discovered to be a massive arena. 

Ceilings at least two stories high, if not higher, with lights bright enough to allow someone to sew by hand, gave way to screened-in windows along the wall opposite of the two men. On each end of the arena, there were panels set up with gates high enough for someone on horseback to reach down and open with ease to create a barrier if a horse became loose. 

"I take it you brought my trailer," the voice echoed in the massive space, both of their heads whipped to the right to locate the speaker. Ali was astride a short buckskin horse with sweat slicking his powerful shoulders, head low as they approached the door. 

Since the barrel race at the Fall fair, Juice had grown accustomed to seeing Ali wearing a tank top, but today she wore a light rain slick and high muck-boots on her feet. Realizing then that there was only some sort of rope fixture on the horse's face and no other tack to speak of, not counting the protective gear on all four legs. 

"Didn't know where to park it," Happy jerked his head in the general direction to where the trailer was. 

"Where there's a sign that says trailer parking," Ali dismounted, using the sleeve of her jacket to help fluff up the horse's coat a bit. "Come on," speaking to her equine companion; the door opening was the cue for Juice and Happy to step out of their way. The older man would never admit it, but horses were on his list of animals that unnerved him. Something that big should not be able to move so explosively, taking the opportunity to slip out the front door to stand under the awning and smoke a spliff. 

Leaving Juice to stand a couple of yards back from where Ali cross-tied the horse, who alternated between turning his head to watch her and focusing on the man he hadn't seen before, deft hands working to remove the protective gear around the horse's legs. Velcro detaching and the rain hitting the roof almost masked the words she spoke under her breath; if the horse's ear didn't tip in her direction, Juice wouldn't have known to listen. The words were foreign, ancient and in her tone, they gently commanded attention and seemed to calm the two men, prey, and predator, at the same time. 

The loose, raven hairs that were falling into Ali's focused gaze as she stretched out each massive leg were begging for Juice to brush them back; envisioning his fingers carding through her locks as he drew their faces together. "Let's go," she was suddenly addressing him, leaving Juice to straighten up and follow her toward the door. 

"Is he...going to be okay standing there?" Regarding the horse that was watching the pair curiously. 

"Yup," Ali pushed out into the rain, hood up, with a nod to Happy. Opening up the back door to the three-horse slant trailer enough to hook it in place, preventing it from slamming shut due to a strong wind. 

"Do you have a ramp," Juice was curious as to how the three of them were going to get the bike loaded, no way could they lift it without risking damage. 

With a nod, Ali's determined stride brought her to one of Oswald's other trailers to unhook the high-traction aluminum ramp and brought it over to where the two men were standing. "Bike is there," motioning to the garage attached to the barn. Flipping on the lights once inside, Happy and Juice both moved to give the machine a once-over. 

"You learned on this bike," Juice didn't know the full story and swore he almost caught a sheepish expression on the woman's stoic features. A nod, "woulda suggested a Yamaha or something cheaper." 

"She won it," Happy ran a hand along the fuel tank, "the last tune-up was?" The pause following brought a frown to his face. 

"From a shop?" The gears in Ali's began to whir, shifting to think about the recreational machines care, "probably about a year ago, I checked a few things when I first moved here a couple of months back," granted, her knowledge was what she found online and through youtube videos. 

"How many miles you put on it," Juice squatted down to eye the tires, trying to get a gauge on the tread. He could almost hear her thoughts as the two of them picked her brain. 

"I've owned the bike for about four years, only about two thousand," Ali probably put more miles on the horses she rode in that time than her bike, "only used it to drive into town, would like to do that when I don't have to haul anything. Save on diesel." 

"When was the last time you had the rear wheel changed," Juice straightened with a pop of his knees, turning around to find that Ali was standing much closer. So close that he could pick up the scent of what he assumed to be grain and something else sweet that reminded him of a tropical drink, coconut? 

"I haven't but, I read that it should be at around eighteen hundred miles," Ali did try to do her homework on anything she owned, never wanting to fall prey to someone scamming her at a shop. 

"On average, depends on what you're driving on," Juice offered a warm smile. Ali's perfect posture failed for a moment at the sunniness of his expression before a crashing wave of rain snapped her back to reality. "To be safe, we might have to swap it out for a new or lightly used one. Your front tire should be okay for another seventeen hundred miles or so," Happy nodded in agreement as he went to haul the garage door open. 

"Are you going to start working on it right away," Ali raised the kickstand and began to walk the bike forward, "if yes, do you mind if I watch?" Juice shook his head to show that he did not mind her coming into TM at all. "Not that I'm a mechanic but, I like to know how things work. What I can watch for." Rolling out into the rain and up the ramp, strapping the bike in place with the toggle rings set up accordingly. 

"We can wait until you put, um," Juice motioned to the barn where he hoped the horse was still standing tied. 

"I'll put Toby away quick and meet you guys at TM, don't wait up," Ali insisted while moving the ramp back to its proper place before ducking inside the barn without another word. 

"If this ends up being like a lame attempt to teach a chick how to shoot pool," Happy began after closing the trailer door and latching it, receiving a look from Juice. 

"It won't. Ali wants to learn, and I can teach her a thing or two on how to take care of her bike." Juice wouldn't deny that the thought may have crossed his mind upon agreeing to give Ali a crash course in caring for her bike. 

There was something mumbled under Happy's breath as they sought refuge in the truck, cranking the key in the ignition and groaning when Juice began to argue for them to wait, "she said not to wait up," shifting into drive. "I was gonna turn it on for the heat, but you had to go and bitch." Carefully maneuvering out of the parking lot, onto the highway and towards TM with Juice caught somewhere between pouting and checking the wing mirror to see if Ali was right behind them. Frowning when the truck was parked, and she still hadn't arrived by the time the bike was in the shop. Locked into the platform. 

"I got it," Juice informed the other mechanics that eyed the matte black paint job. His big brown eyes were meticulously scanning the slight dings and scratches. "Looks like you've tipped over a time or two," reaching for his wireless headphones, flipping through to find a song to listen to before setting to work. "Horns" by Brice Fox was what his Spotify shuffled to, nodding in agreement with the app while situating his tools. 

Putting Toby away ended up taking Ali a little bit longer than expected and getting stuck behind California drivers who had no idea how to drive in the rain. Tucking her right hand into the sleeve of the dark green rain-slick she wore with the Oswald name on the back, Ali pressed out into the downpour to make her way toward the bay doors. Spotting the mohawked biker working on her machine almost immediately; noticing that the other men stopped their work to see how long it would take for Juice to realize that she was there. 

The sensation of someone looking over his shoulder has Juice feeling a bit annoyed as he didn't need one of the other guys telling him how to do a simple routine check, but this energy was different. Stopping himself from snapping at the person to his left when the smell of grain and coconut washed over him, "hey, wasn't sure if you were gonna make it," taking his headphones out to let them drape around his neck, the song still playing. 

"Good song," Ali commented on that first before taking her gaze off of the bike to glance at Juice; he was staring down at her. "What have you worked on so far?" 

"I was about to start working on changing the oil," Juice set the oil pan out and found that Ali was eyeing the tools set out. "Which ones do you think we need?" 

A little snort, using her left hand to pick up a socket and wrench at the same time with an inquiring grimace. Making Juice wonder what was wrong with the right one, which was still buried deep in her pocket. "Yeah, that's a couple of things we'll need," that sunshine grin reassuring Ali that she was right, he was sensing that she wasn't often out of her element. 

If someone had informed Ali that the clouds were parting, she would have believed them as Juice's smile seemed to outshine even the sun. "I'll stay out of your way," but, Juice placed a hand on the small of her back to keep her in place while the other began to guide her in changing the oil. Making a little bit of a mess and he swore there was a hint of a smile on her face as she wiped off the grease, unable to help himself as he marveled at how he wanted to touch her fingers, even when filth was coating them. Bringing her right hand out to brush a few stray hairs back was when Ali revealed the makeshift splint keeping her middle and ring fingers together. 

"What happened," Juice gently caught her palm between his thumb and forefinger to get a better look. Trying to remember if she wore the splint earlier but couldn't as a shock of electricity shot through them when skin touched skin. So powerful was the connection that Ali instinctively pulled away. 

"Nothing," the stoic expression was back and question filled the woman's emerald eyes as she took a few steps back, "I should get back, let me know when the bike is tuned up? Thank you." Not wanting to seem ungrateful but she needed to get away, to not be so close to this man. Climbing into the truck and set off for what he assumed to be Oswald's. 

"Damn it," Juice didn't know what he did wrong, but to have Ali all but run from his touch like that while all of his brothers looked on was a kick to the gut. Kicking a bucket over as he stormed out into the rain, needing to get away from their jeers. Almost walking right past his blue-eyed friend, who caught him before he went into the clubhouse. "What?" Not really in the mood to discuss how badly he had blown it. 

"Come to Lola's tonight," Riley's words held a promise to Juice that, if he did, he would not be disappointed. "I'm bartending from six until close; music starts at around eight, come at around eight-thirty." Her eyes were dancing up at the frustrated man. 

"Eight-thirty," Juice was not ready to give up just yet, wondering if he ever would be when the topic was Ali. Taking a deep breath, Juice went back to work to finish up on the bike; which didn't need all that much work but he was thorough. Riding to his small condo to eat, shower, touch up his mohawk and brush his teeth. Pulling on a pair of jeans that fit a bit snugger than what he wore around the clubhouse and a fitted black t-shirt, the kutte remaining on the hook. Final touches were his boots, and a couple spritzes of cologne before leaving a note to Happy not to wait up as he drove to Lola's at eight-fifteen. 

As far as bar's go, Lola's was a place that most of the club members avoided due to the young crowd, loud dance music and the fact that they didn't stock Miller Lite. The lights were low, air smokey and smelled a bit of sweat and the different colognes and perfumes, but the dance floors both outside and in were almost always packed. Tonight was no different as Juice waited in line, the rain hadn't let up, and his shirt was clinging to him as the bouncer checked is ID to ensure he wasn't on the list of troublemakers. "You're good," the burly man gave a single nod to indicate that Juice was good to go. 

Making his way through the crowd to find a spot on the bar, Juice gave a wave to Riley, "this where you get all your tips," referring to her short and tight cocktail dress. 

"You know it, babe," Riley poured Juice a finger of whiskey to help his nerves, "she's here," smiling as her friend's eyes set to scanning the mob at the bar. "Dancefloor, with a very persistent fellow. She got here a little earlier than last time," sliding the glass to Juice. 

"Paralyzer" by Finger Eleven was blasting; Juice was getting bumped into, and the smoke decreased the visibility, but once his eyes locked onto Ali everything else faded away. A man was grinding up on her, hands forcing her to move with how he wanted. Her face bearing one expression, bored. Seeing that had Juice smirking, this guy had no idea who he was failing to tame. 

"Go get'er, babe," Riley's voice reached Juice above the music as he set off through the mob of people, the song ends. Ali seems bound and determined to get away from the guy all up on her ass; who doesn't seem to get the hint and made to follow her when Juice pulled a daring move. Reaching for Ali's hand as a new song began, that same electric current flowed through them, causing her to freeze in the middle of an escape.

"Hey, man, back off," a deep voice boomed at Juice, but all the biker had to do was flash the reaper on his right forearm to get the man to change his tune; leaving Ali alone, leaving the two of them still holding hands on the outskirts of the dancefloor.

"Wanna dance," Juice was forced to shout above the music and, to his genuine surprise, Ali nodded. 

Gently guiding her to a relatively open spot was Juice's first move, his second was drawing her as close as she allowed for them to be. Having to force himself to behave, not to run his hands up her sides, to touch the lace embellishments of her green tank top and then down the ass of the painted-on jeans the way he wanted. Instead, his palms came to rest on her hips, and the side of his face was gently pressing against her hair. The braid had come loose during her dancing at some point, allowing raven whisps to frame her face delicately.

While Chris Brown serenaded them from the speakers, Ali began to relax as she forgot about the fact that she was here to forget about the earlier moment with Juice and now here they were dancing. Deciding to test the waters, she lightly pressed her ass into his crotch and couldn't help the little shake of her head as the lyrics came blaring down on them. "I'm sorry," not realizing that this was a Lil Dicky song and made to move away, needing a drink and some fresh air. Stirring a feeling deep in her gut said that their first dance shouldn't be to a joke type song. 

"Wait," Juice was weaving through the crowd, making chase as best he could to try and keep Ali in his sights as she ducked through the doors to the outside bar. Managing to squeeze in next to the elusive woman as the bartender slid a glass of whiskey her way, trying not to take the closed-off body language to heart since she was bracing both elbows against the bartop. 

"Thank you for getting rid of him," Ali kept her eyes forward as she spoke to Juice, failing to ignore the warmth emanating from him or how the blunt tone seemed to cut him to the core. 

Mouth opening and closing a couple of times, attempting to find the right words to say to bring them back to where they were just moments before. In all his years, Juice was never so tongue-tied as he was by her. He was royally blowing his chance, and Ali wasn't up for an amateur hour, placing a few dollars down on the bartop with a nod to the bartender so that he knew she wasn't blowing him off. Turning away from Juice with a little bob of her head, unable to help herself and the hopeful man swung for the fences by catching her by the fingertips. 

"You like Aaliyah?" The real question was implied, praying that Ali understood what he was asking of her. 

"One dance," Ali set the glass down next to her cash to give Juice enough time to collect himself, moving together to the packed dance floor and out into the light rain. 

Giving the slowest roll of her neck, Ali began to move her body in a way that Juice was merely struggling not to stand and admire. The movement of her hips drawing him in like a moth to a flame and soon his chest was flush against her back, one arm coming to drape around her waist to help follow the ebb and flow. The slight pause in Ali's purl confirmed that being able to move freely wasn't typical. Breath hitching as the beat took over her body, sweeping away any inhibitions as the two flowed as one; this may be what Ali needed to help get over the electric shocks coursing through her body at his every touch. 

As one song gave way to the next, the beat slowed, but the fire was burning brightly in Juice's eyes as the sky opened up to pour down on them. The crowd was thinning out and gave the two more room to elevate the moment as he spun Ali around to face him, her hands sliding up to rest on his chest while slotting his leg so that the apex of her thighs came to press against him. No hesitation as Juice took the lead on pure instinct that the woman in his arms knew more than simple bumping and grinding; rainwater was kicking up as they worked the rust off his bachata dance moves, the sunshine smile broke through when the smallest smirk tugged at the edges of Ali's lips. 

"Want to get out of here," her fingertips began to creep up underneath the back of Juice's shirt, feeling his need for her beginning to grow against her thigh. Following her here must have been for a purpose, and it was becoming evident what his intentions were as the night progressed; not that Ali was at all bothered, seeing as there was no chance in becoming more, why not continue to explore each other physically? 

Eyebrows coming together as their faces neared, Juice tilted his lips to brush against her forehead, "I'll walk you to your truck." Gently parting their bodies but never letting go of Ali's hand as they left the dancefloor, making their way to the parking lot where the truck stood out like a giant amongst the cars and SUV's. 

Fingers lacing as their footfalls echoed off the buildings surrounding them has Ali realizing just how alone they were, Juice's offer reverberating in her head has a whole new level of anticipation growing; a biker certainly has fooled around in the backseat of a vehicle or two. 

"Are you alright to drive?" Juice finally spoke once they were standing next to the driver's door, without Ali's body sealed to his allows him to admire the green of her eyes when she steps a little closer. The bright green held flecks and swirls of emerald, pupils blown wide with an expression that Juice would keep with him always. 

"Drive? Yeah," Ali's tone gave away her confusion as Juice brought her beaten and battered fingers to his lips, brushing a kiss to them. 

"Good, I'll see you around," reluctant to let go, but Juice knew that if he didn't walk away now that he would be powerless to his body's desires. The smile was never wavering as Ali stared, dumbfound, as he walked away into the night. Leaving her with a flurry of emotions brewing just beneath the surface, brushing her hair back roughly in a show of frustration, as her whole plan backfired, before climbing into the truck and setting off for Oswald's.


	7. The Edge of Tonight Part Seven

"I haven't seen her around, babe, I'm sorry," Riley sat on the edge of Juice's bed while watching her friends' fingers tap at a snail's pace on his keyboard. Dark circles were beginning to form under his large doe eyes, and she wonders when was the last time he had a decent nights sleep. A little voice in the back of the crows head said that it hadn't been since that night with Ali at Lola's, which was coming up on three weeks ago. 

"Figured I'd ask," outside of club business, the topic of Ali seems to be the only thing Juice inquires about, but it looks like the green-eyed woman has gone underground after she arrived at TM the morning after their dance with Diego. Paid for the repairs and rode off without a word, all before Juice had even gotten to the garage. 

Desperation set in not long after, Juice finds himself driving by the feed and grocery stores to catch a glimpse of her. Any diesel truck engine had the biker nearly getting whiplash as it might be her, but the truck was never hers. 

"Maybe she's been busier with work?" Riley offers, she could only hope that Oswald wasn't putting Ali in a tower, of sorts, to keep her away from Juice. There was a genuine concern that the mayor may have caught wind of the cowgirl getting too cozy with the Son and he may have canned her, but Riley was confident that worry was already racing through Juice's busy mind. 

"Maybe," Juice echoes, wiping a hand down his unshaven face. "Time is it?" Glancing at his clock, "shit, I gotta get back to work," accidentally taking an extended lunch and snaps his laptop closed before setting the device aside. 

The expression on his face was almost devastating, and Riley struggles to think of something that might help cheer her friend up, "want me to stay the night tonight?" 

"Last time you did Tig joked that he jacked off into my coffee creamer," Juice had thrown it out to be on the safe side. "Nah, I got shit to do for the club," a polite way to say that he wants to be alone to try and figure out how he was going to work on getting over Ali. She consumes his every moment, both awake and sleeping as he has woken up many a time to his whole body aching and calling out to her. 

"Okay, babe," Riley left the room with Juice and remains rooted to the spot as he heads down the stairs and out the door to the garage. 

"He still hung up on tha' gash?" Chibs rumbling voice from behind her startled Riley from her thoughts, turning to look up at the Scot. 

"Mhm, he's got it bad, Chibby," Riley felt for Juice, she honestly did as he hasn't clicked with anyone in Charming. Not that the Brooklyn native hasn't tried, but between being a part of the club, and more on the openly sweet side, he was having a bit of a hard time. 

"Aye," Chibs knew what Riley meant, "lad's got tae snap out of it," the older man knew that was easier said than done when it came to matters of the heart. But, what did Juice have to get over when he barely knew the woman?

"Perhaps you guys could bring him to The Jellybean," Riley walks forward as Chibs does, enjoying the hand coming to rest on the small of her back. "Maybe swing by Lola's after?" The two establishments were across town from each other but could provide a good time for all. 

"Think a stripper might help more than your company," Chibs thumb rubbed lightly against Riley's soft skin, wonderfully exposed thanks to her white crop-top. 

An unreadable expression crosses Riley's face that she manages to mask as a squint as they exit the clubhouse into the light of the late afternoon. "Think Juice needs a distraction and while I am good at what I do, Chibby, I may be a little too close to home," what with her trying to help Juice along with Ali. 

"Mmm, might be right, lass. I'll talk tae the other gents, see if they're paid up on their dues before hitting up the ol'Jellybean. Bobby'll have our heads otherwise," Chibs gives a little chuckle and presses a kiss to Riley's temple before his long legs carry him toward the bay doors across the parking lot. Leaving Riley to watch and for what felt like the billionth time, she brings her phone out and hovers her thumb over calling the elusive woman to find out just what she got out of stringing Juice along like this. But, instead tucks her phone back into her pocket; deciding against making the call as it may get back to the Puerto Rican, and that would undoubtedly result in a fight between them. With a gentle sigh, Riley retreats into the clubhouse to see what she could whip up to feed the men that would be taking up residency that night. 

"Juice, go home," Gemma came out of her office, slinging her bag over her shoulder and an expression that she wouldn't take no for an answer. "I can't afford to keep paying you all the overtime that you've been working to keep your mind of that little tart." She knew the signs; every man that works at TM did the same thing when having lady trouble, they dive headfirst into work. 

"Sorry, Gem," Juice straightens up from his position under the hood of a hybrid. "I just wanted to get this done and-" his sentence was cut off by the roar of a motorcycle pulling into the lot, a bike that he labored over and thoroughly expected never to see again in this lot. 

Even with the full-face helmet on and the leather jacket covering the recognizable tattoos, Juice knows who he is looking at as they dismount the bike with their back to him. There is a pause after she removes her head protection, a gentle breeze causing the whisps of raven hair to flutter and Juice couldn't help but walk out of the bay doors as if being reeled in by an unseeable line. 

"We're closed for the day. You can come back tomorrow," Gemma purses her lips. Her protective nature kicking into full gear as her heels click authoritatively on the pavement as she comes to stand next to Juice. 

Juice wills Gemma to stop talking, as this moment feels very akin to when Juice came across a young doe with wide eyes, tail down, at a rest stop somewhere in the Midwest. One false move and instinct would demand that she bolt for safety, even if his intentions were never to cause harm. 

"I know," Ali's body language shifts and there's a moment where her fingers flex around the helmet as if she were about to put it back on and drive away without another word. A beat passes, then another. A dull throbbing begins to pulse in Juice's skull, wondering if he shouldn't make the first move. Say something first to shatter the deafening silence. "I just wanted to say thanks," she turns. The dark circles beneath her bloodshot green eyes gave her the appearance of having two new shiners. "I had to get going so early; I didn't get the chance to do so for the work you did on my trailer and bike," an almost apologetic softness comes over her as she looks directly at Juice, who is wholly dumbfounded at the moment. 

"Where did you go," Gemma asks what Juice may be too afraid to, seeing the gears whirring in his head as he attempts to wrap it around the fact that the woman he's been pining over is standing directly in front of him. 

A reluctant expression shifts onto Ali's face at Gemma's question, but she does not balk at the inquiry on her whereabouts, "I was up north for work, went up about a week early and took our time coming back," gently rolling her shoulders back to release a little bit of the tension resting there. 

"Our?" finally finding his voice, Juice shifts from one foot to the other as he realizes it's not his place in wanting to know who was in Ali's company while she was on the road. 

"The Oswald's, a last little trip before school starts," Ali's piercing gaze fixates on Juice, "Diego stayed behind to man the fort," her guess was right on the money when Juice couldn't help but smile. "As I said, I didn't mean to take off so suddenly, but I should probably let you both go," referring to the still present Gemma in the background. 

The thought of Ali leaving so soon has Juice scrambling internally to find a reason to remain in her company, "have you gotten a chance to ride around the area much?" Blurting out the question in a half-yell that has him immediately mentally kicking himself. 

"No," Ali lifts her helmet up to tuck under her arm, waiting to hear where this new line of questioning was going. 

"If you wanted, I could show you some of the scenic routes that the locals like," Juice fumbles over his words as he doesn't have an exact plan in mind.

"It's getting a little late for sightseeing," Ali points out with a softness that has Juice yearning to step closer to her, even as she's shooting him down. "Maybe tomorrow? What time are you off work?"

"He's off tomorrow, too much over time," Gemma pipes up one last time.

Juice whirls around to look at Gemma for confirmation that this wasn't some devious trick to get his hopes up only to call him in at the ass-crack of dawn to continue working on the hybrids that seem to be piling up in the TM lot. Relief washing over him like a wave when Gemma winks before heading to her car and driving away with a little rev of the engine. 

"Tomorrow works for me, want to meet here?" Juice can't help the magnetic pull he feels for Ali as he takes a few steps closer, pausing only when her weight shifts onto her heels in a subconscious request for space. "I know you're used to waking up before the sunrise, but the views are best in the late afternoon," which wasn't a total lie, but Juice was hoping the ride could turn into an actual date. If she didn't pick up on his simple scheme, that is. 

There, at that moment, the corners of Ali's lips were turning upward into a hint of a smile before quickly licking them, but the expression remains in her eyes, "I'm hoping to get a bit more sleep tomorrow, so late afternoon works for me. I'll meet you here," one leg swinging over the bike as she comes to straddle the machine. Juice takes that moment to adjust himself discreetly while walking up to the side of her bike. 

"Sounds great, I'll see you here at about five," Juice's sunshine smile breaks through when Ali gives an affirmative nod, not noticing the way she almost basks in the warmth coming from him. 

"Five," Ali parrots back to Juice. Placing her helmet on, but not flipping the visor down, Ali nods for Juice to stand clear as the motorcycle roars to life and she backs out of her parking spot. Only kicking off after sharing one last look with Juice. "What are you doing...what are you doing," the inner dialogue trying to figure out exactly what was transpiring here. 

"I can't believe it...I can't believe it," Juice stares at the exit to TM for a long while, pinching himself when he can't quite wrap his head around what has just taken place. "I gotta...Riley!" Turning on his heels and all but floating into the clubhouse to let her know that he not only has plans but plans with Ali for the following day. "Riley!"


End file.
